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The eve of the non-battle

Quiet is the eve in this old town

Shadows grow long and echoes far

Gone is the frantic hammering of blacksmiths

Fletchers do not sharpen arrow tips


Quiet is the eve in this old town

done are many battles, the fallen burned

spells are collected, troops asleep


Bright is the full moon on elves and humans

Songs are being sung in undertones

Still we remember the tension growing

Still we remember the cries of war


Bright is the full moon and quiet we are

But we will rise again, and shine in gold

To the new ones and those gone

I raise my flagon of tears and I bow


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